by Ivy Jordan
“Here,” I said nervously.
“This isn’t attendance. Go on inside,” she said, sarcasm oozing from her tongue.
Her lips curled into a half smile as she lightly shook her head. I knew that look. I’d had it given to me time and time again. It was the look that said, “You’re different. You don’t belong.”
I’d been on dozens of auditions, but they never seemed to get any easier. “Hello,” I said, clearing the lump of nerves from my throat as I entered the small room.
The heavy door shut behind me, slamming and causing me to jump. “Sorry,” I apologized to the three uninterested faces behind the long desk that sat against the far right wall in the room.
“Emily Warren?” the woman in the middle of two men asked. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun, and her eyes were narrowed and small.
“Yes,” I said quickly, moving to my spot in the center of the room.
“You are auditioning for Lucinda?” the woman asked, then looked to her left, and then to her right.
The two men on either side of her didn’t seem to notice her glance. It was obvious she felt I wasn’t right for the part, but I had to push through.
“Yes,” I announced with a cheerful smile.
“Do you need someone to read with you?” the man on the left asked.
He was older, but handsome. His bald head was shiny, creating a small glare that I couldn’t seem to quit staring at. “No,” I said, pulling my eyes away from his head.
“Go ahead whenever you’re ready,” he said, offering the slightest hint of a smile behind the thick coat of his beard.
“I’ll be reading the speech Lucinda gives the cops,” I stated.
They all nodded and then turned to the page in the script that matched my audition.
Tamara, one of my three roommates, had taught me how to cry on demand. I read the speech, pleading with the cops to believe I didn’t mean to hurt my husband, even though fifteen bullets had been found in both his chest and back. A tear rolled down my cheek, which I slowly wiped away, and then let my head fall into my hands in dismay.
It felt good. Real good. “Thank you,” the woman in the middle stated without emotion.
I hated casting agents. They never showed any emotion. You had to leave the audition not knowing if they hated you or loved you.
The bald man leaned back in his chair towards the man on the other side of the woman. They were whispering as I gathered my script, and the rest of my belongings, ready to head out for the three-day torturous wait for rejection.
“Wait,” the bald man said quickly.
My heart throbbed in my chest, so hard I was afraid they could hear it. I stared in his direction, trying my best to avoid eye contact with the glare spot on his head.
“I think we can all agree that your acting ability is spot on,” he said.
Oh my God!
“We had originally decided to cast someone more…more L.A.,” he continued.
Yeah, more L.A. I knew what that meant. Blonder, bustier, faker.
“I think we may have overlooked a great opportunity to cast someone with a more girl-next-door look. You’d be perfect. The audience would fall in love with you, and believe that you’d end up in an abusive marriage,” he said with a smile.
What the fuck is that supposed to mean? I look corn-fed and stupid? Who cares, if it gets me the part.
I smiled, even though I wanted to scold him with a mean glare for his inconsiderate and completely inaccurate words.
“Are you comfortable with the sex scene?” the man on the right asked. His eyes were wide and his lashes thick, thicker than most women’s.
“Yes. Totally,” I boasted, even though ‘comfortable’ was a strong word. I was willing. Comfortable? Not so much.
“We’ll call you and let you know within three days,” the woman spoke up, obviously ready to debate the boys on why I wasn’t right for the part.
“Thank you,” I said, and then left the room where I felt degraded, judged, and somewhat ecstatic that I’d won over two-thirds of the table of assholes in the room.
My phone rang, playing my ringtone of Nirvana’s ‘All Apologies’ as I walked down the narrow staircase of the building and out the front doors to the sun-streaked sidewalk. It was October, and it was ninety degrees with full sun—unusual, even for Los Angeles, at this time of year. I still wasn’t used to it. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to it. At home, it was probably forty degrees, and the trees were all shedding their leaves, the grass turning brown, and the threat of snowstorms right around the corner.
Tamara’s face lit up on my screen as I slid the answer button. “Hey girl,” I answered.
“Oh, thank God you answered,” she sighed.
“What’s wrong?”
“My fucking model didn’t show up,” she snarled though the phone.
“I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?” I asked.
“Can you get here in twenty minutes?” she asked with desperation spewing from the edges of her voice.
“I can get there in five,” I replied.
“Oh my God! You’re amazing,” she squealed.
I shoved my phone into my purse and hailed a cab. I was only a couple miles from her studio, but the hot sun deterred me from trying to make the walk.
Tamara had been trying to get her big break as a photographer for years and had sunk every dime she made into newer and higher-end equipment. I knew how important this job was to her, and to her career, so I was happy to help.
After paying the cabbie, I rushed into the white stucco building where Tamara worked. I wasn’t sure what I was walking into, or what she’d have me modeling, but I didn’t care. I was on cloud nine. Two out of the three assholes liked me for the part. I had a chance. A real fuckin’ chance.
“Oh, thank God,” Tamara rushed to me with open arms.
A quick squeeze to greet her, and I was rushed into the dressing room. “What’s the ad?” I asked.
“It’s a new water brand,” she said, pushing a skimpy red bikini into my hands.
“Oh, wow,” I laughed, looking at the tiny suit.
“I know. You’ll be doing me a real solid. I need this to be perfect,” she pleaded.
“Of course,” I said, swallowing my modesty and agreeing to put on the tiny red bikini.
An Asian woman, whom I couldn’t understand when she talked, started fussing with my hair. A flamboyant man with wavy blond hair sat down in front of me with a large bag of makeup and brushes. “Here. Wipe off that horrific makeup,” he said with a snotty tone as he handed me a cloth and tube of makeup remover.
I did as I was told. This wasn’t unusual treatment; I’d gotten enough work to know that. The town was harsh, and the people harsher. It was a good damn thing my parents had raised me to have thick skin.
“You ready?” Tamara yelled.
The makeup and hair artists cleared the way, and I slipped behind the curtain to change into my suit.
As I exited, the man with all the makeup brushes was there to greet me. He didn’t say anything as he knelt to his knees and started brushing my inner thighs. It was an uncomfortable feeling, and I was just thankful I’d waxed earlier that week.
“You look amazing,” Tamara assured me as I entered back into the studio.
A large area was coated with thick layers of sand, and an umbrella stuck out with a backdrop of the ocean.
One of the hottest men I’d ever seen walked out of the other dressing room wearing nothing except firefighter pants and suspenders. Oh, my!
I shot Tamara a look of excitement with my teeth showing, my eyes wide, and my body so tense I could snap if I made any sudden movements.
“Emily. This is Josh. Josh, Emily will be filling in for Sandra today,” Tamara said as she moved behind her camera.
I extended my hand to him with a smile. “You want me—er—where do you want me?” I stammered.
He grinned, showing off his perfectly white teeth. I watched his strong hand
as it slid across his squared off chin, as if he was thinking about my mistaken question, and then through his thick, wavy blond hair. Jesus, he was fuckin’ hot!
“I believe you’ll need to be in my arms. Like I’m carrying you,” he said, his voice so sweet it could’ve been honey.
“Okay,” I said, feeling my cheeks burning.
I heard Tamara giggle from behind her camera. Thank you, Sandra, for not showing up today; and thank you, Tamara, for thinking of me!
It was awkward at first, but Josh’s natural charm and confident charisma made it easy to relax. He took the lead, pulling me into his arms while Tamara snapped the shots. “Just relax,” he said with a smile.
My body melted into his. Oh God, that was too relaxed. I tensed back up.
His smile was warm and his eyes patient as he stared at me. “Emily. You need to be really into him,” Tamara said. I am; that is the problem!
“He’s the hot firefighter that is there not only to quench your thirst with the water he carries, but to quench your desires as well,” she added, and then ducked back behind her camera.
I took a deep breath. This was her job on the line. I decided to ignore the fact that Josh’s chest was rippled with muscles, that his arms were so thick I couldn’t get both hands around them, and that he smelled like sex.
Tamara seemed pleased with my transition from a giddy schoolgirl to a professional model. She was all over the place, snapping pictures from every direction as I let my hands explore Josh’s body, and my eyes linger on his with hunger and thirst.
He scooped me up into his arms without much warning, causing me to squeal with delight from his strength. “Okay, ready for the money shot,” Tamara said, moving quickly towards us.
Before I knew what happened, or what was going to happen, Josh’s lips were pressed against mine. I don’t know if it was instinct, fear, or just pure physical yearning, but my lips parted, and my mouth opened without hesitation, allowing his tongue to explore mine.
His hand held my buttocks firmly, cupping both cheeks in just his palm. A tingle quickly arose between my legs, and as our tongues entangled together, I let out a soft moan.
Josh pulled back slowly, staring at me with his bright-blue eyes. His lips curled into a crooked smile, and he hummed in a deep tone that vibrated my pussy into submission. I knew he could do anything he wanted with me in that moment. I didn’t care that Tamara was in the room, that the rest of the crew was moseying around the snack table, or that it may all be caught on camera. He put me down. Not what I expected, or wanted.
“That was great, guys. Thank you so much, Emily; you were amazing,” Tamara gushed.
Awkwardness fell over me as I realized I may have been the only one feeling the sexual tension between us. “Anytime,” I replied to Tamara and quickly rushed into the dressing room.
I slipped out of the bikini bottoms, realizing some of my juices had escaped my swollen lips and saturated the crotch of the suit. I stuffed them into my purse, quickly dressed, and promised myself I’d return them to Tamara in the morning after they’d been washed.
After dressing, I said my goodbyes to Tamara. I groaned softly at the realization that Josh had already taken off; when I peeked in to see if he was still around, his dressing room door open and he was nowhere to be found.
“If you want more work, I can hook you up,” Tamara said cheerfully.
“Yes!” I squealed.
“I’ll see you at home. Thanks again, Emily,” she smiled.
I walked out the doors, hoping for relief from the fall day, but instead was hit with an unusual heat wave that made my skin instantly tacky.
“Hey, Emily,” said a familiar, honey-dipped voice—the same one that had made me soil a borrowed bikini just moments earlier.
I turned to see Josh standing by the entrance of the building. Was he waiting for me?
“Hey,” I said as coolly as I could.
“I may be way out of bounds here. But, I felt something between us, and I think you did too,” he said in a hushed voice. Oh, I did, I did!
My eyes were locked onto his, sucked into a trance as he spewed out the most delicious words I’d ever heard. “Can I get your number? Maybe call you for a date next weekend?”
My mouth was open, I knew it was, but I couldn’t close it. I nodded, reached into my purse quickly, and fumbled for my phone. Where the hell is it?
I finally felt the slick metal case of my phone and pulled it out of my bag. “What’s your number?” I asked, finally able to speak, but with a shaky, excited voice. Play it cool, Emily.
Josh smiled and looked relieved. Did he seriously fear I’d turn him down? Me? Turn him down?
I entered the numbers into my phone as he announced them and saved the entry. “Call me, so I’ll have yours, too,” he suggested. I quickly obliged.
I watched him fumbling with his phone until he had my number saved. “Can I call you in a couple days to set up something for Saturday night?” he asked.
“Yes. That’d be awesome,” I said, immediately regretting my choice of words. I sounded like a valley girl. Like, totally awesome, dude. Ugh!
He winked and then turned to walk away. I stood there, watching, wishing he hadn’t changed from the firefighter pants, and hating that he wore a shirt.
This has to be the best day ever!
Chapter Two
“Here. I accidentally wore this home yesterday,” I said to Tamara as I handed her the washed bikini bottoms.
“Okay,” she said cautiously.
I knew if I started rambling with details, she’d know I was lying. Her bright red lips pursed together as her dark eyes stared into mine, looking for whatever I was trying to hide inside them. “You and Josh really worked well together,” she said, deciding not to push me on whether or not taking the bikini bottoms was an accident or not. Thank God! I didn’t really want to tell her I got pussy juice all over them because Josh made me hot.
“Yes. He was easy to work with,” I said.
“Well, the client loved the chemistry between you two. So, if you’re interested, you can take Sandra’s place,” Tamara announced.
Her hand slid through her short black mane as she waited patiently for my reaction. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” I blurted out.
“It’s just another couple sessions or so,” she stated.
“That’s fine. Hopefully I’ll get the part I auditioned for,” I said proudly.
Lisa squealed from my news, finally coming to life from the couch where she’d been for two days. She was a struggling actress as well, and even though I felt my struggle was hard, hers was much worse. She hadn’t worked in months, and every audition she’d been on had gone horribly wrong. My heart ached for her, and if I’d known she was still buried under the pile of blankets on the couch, I’d have kept my news private.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were there,” I admitted.
“Oh, nonsense. That’s great news. Just because I’m down right now, it doesn’t mean I can’t celebrate your success,” she said, sweet as ever.
“When will you find out?” Tamara asked.
“Couple days,” I said calmly, even though it was killing me inside to have to wait another second before finding out.
“I’ll keep my fingers crossed for ya,” Tamara said.
“Me too,” Lisa agreed.
“Amy and Maria are working the car show all week,” Lisa said, rolling her eyes.
“Why didn’t you?” Tamara asked.
Lisa rolled her eyes again, but this time with more emphasis on her disgust at the notion she would stoop to that level.
I giggled. “I’m sorry, but I’ve done far worse,” I admitted.
“Exactly,” Tamara said sternly.
Lisa fell back onto the couch, pushing her hand to her forehead. Maybe that’s why she wasn’t working. Maybe the casting crew weren’t the picky ones; maybe she was.
“I’m spending my day at the beach. I don’t want to think about the audition until they c
all,” I sighed.
“I gotta run. I’ll text you the details for your shoot schedule,” Tamara said, rushing out the door with her equipment in hand.
Lisa was already rolled back into a cocoon in her blanket, so I went into my room and got ready for my day of relaxation and sunshine.
I said goodbye to the blob on the couch and received a mumble of something unintelligible in return. When I arrived at the beach, it was apparent that I wasn’t the only one with the idea of soaking up the unusual October rays.
The Santa Monica Pier was flooded with people, and the beach wasn’t much better in terms of finding a place with some solitude. I stepped onto the warm sand, made my way through the crowd, and found a spot near a group of college kids playing volleyball.
A part of me yearned for that college life. They all looked so carefree and confident. Did they all have their lives figured out?
The sand warmed my back, even through my thick beach towel, as I spread myself out under the sun. I wonder if they’ll call today? Stop it. You are supposed to be relaxing.
“Emily. Emily Warren, is that you?” a squeaky voice said from somewhere nearby.
I opened my eyes, pushed myself up, and turned to see Jackie Lemay standing behind my towel. Her bright-blue eyes, glistening tan skin, and shiny blonde hair all reminded me of everything I hated about this town.
“Hey, Jackie,” I said, sliding my sunglasses from my eyes and forcing a smile.
Jackie Lemay, the most irritating woman in the world, standing here, on my beach, on my day to relax.
“How’ve you been?” she asked, a touch of pity thick on her tone.
“I’ve been great,” I smirked upward at her.
“Oh, wonderful. So, you’re working finally?” she asked.
My hands pushed into the sand. They clenched into fists, grabbing the hot sand between my fingers. I wanted to fling it at her, hopefully scorching her eyes with the hot grains so she couldn’t work again.
“I’ve just been hired for a new water campaign,” I boasted, grateful that Tamara had given me something to brag about.